Lipstick--A Petlar fic
I'm not 100% on today's title but I couldn't think of anything else. So it may change.
December 12th
Lipstick
A Petlar fic--2791 words
3rd Person POV
People were screaming, coughing, crying, and muttering. And Sylar was getting fed up. It was too loud and too busy. He wanted to be at the apartment reading or out in the park enjoying the cool fall day. But instead he was at the hospital, sitting in an overly occupied waiting room.
There was a strong smell of antiseptic. The walls where blindingly white and the harsh flourescent lighting left no corner in darkness. Every chair was taken, by someone sick or someone coddling the sick. The magazines littering the small end tables were all outdated. The fake flower pots in the corners of the room needed to be dusted. And Sylar noted, with great distain, that there wasn't a single tissue box in the entire waiting room.
What the hell is the point of putting all these sick people in here at once to stew if they're not offered tissues?
I don't know. I do not know. Please, don't make me come out.
Yeah, because that's what Peter needs. I can see it now. You have a panic attack and run out of here like a girl while the nurse over there puts out a psych alert on the intercom.
If you're going to be unpleasant I'll leave you to yourself.
No, no. Keep me occupied or I might choke this sniffling bastard next to me. Doesn't he know to blow not suck.
"Maybe you could teach him the difference."
Peter!
"Peter."
Sylar stood up and faked a pleasant smile. None of Peter's co-workers were aware that Gabriel harbored a much darker side. All they knew was that Peter's new boyfriend was skittish, painfully shy, and pleasant. It would have been easier for Sylar to give Gabriel the rains but he wanted out. He missed strutting about and making passes at Peter. He could pretend to be sweet and timid for a little while. He'd done it with Mohinder for three days. An hour or so wouldn't kill him now.
So Sylar smiled and kissed Peter shyly on the cheek before taking his hand and allowing the shorter man to tug him down the halls. A few nurses waved, but even more hurried by without a glance in their direction. For once Sylar was glad he didn't have the ability to read minds.
The thought of hearing everything made him sick to his stomach. Hospitals were torture chambers and mosoliums. The dead, the dying, and the certifiably insane flocked to hospitals and just waited there. Every one of them bored out of their mind with nothing to do but twiddle their thumbs and think. Sylar didn't know how Peter could do it. He couldn't fathom how an empath could stand to walk into the hospital every day and not go mad. He wondered if Peter just learned to tune it out, or if he really was just a fool oozing of unconditonal love and warmth.
Peter urged Sylar into a dimly lit room. The file room, and at the desk was a pretty blond. Sylar could hear the ticking coming off of the woman. It filtered through his ears like it came from broken earbuds. The ticking was soft, but louder on one side, just slightly. The ticking niggled at his ears and held steady.
She's deaf.
Peter ignored the thought and smiled down at Emma. She put her earbuds away, out of courtesy, and stood to shake Sylar's hand. He smiled and shook with her. He introduced himself with a smile on his lips and light in his eyes. Peter stood to the side with his arms crossed, smiling at the picture they made.
There had been a time when he'd considered dating her. But after Nathan died the moment passed. Peter drew in on himself, hid away from Emma and her pretty lights, and wallowed in the darkness of his apartment and his depression. When Emma had grown concerned she dug through his medical history and found major depression tacked onto his file. Then she saw Nathan's smiling face on the news accompanied by the caption 'Senator Missing: Presumed Dead'. She hadn't pushed. She felt she had no right, not after what she had done because of Christopher.
Now the two of them were just good friends. Peter had learned sign language and Emma had agreed to wear a hearing aid in her left ear. She could hear whispers of things and it bothered her more than the colors, that hushed tone. But it made Peter smile so she did it.
-- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- --
Sylar was dying, figuratively. Peter had arranged a meeting with his work friends so that they could get to know eachother. He'd been playing the part of the timid boyfriend finding his way in his first gay relationship. He'd received lots of support from Hesam, Emma, and some elderly pediatric nurse. Who coincidentally was making eyes at him. Sylar shivered in his seat and hugged himself as she winked and licked her lips in his direction.
She's decrepid! Why is she still thinking about sex?
I think she likes our eyebrows.
No one likes our eyebrows.
Peter does.
Well Peter's a weirdo isn't he?
Sylar was pulled out of his internal conversation when Peter put a hand on his shoulder.
"Brei, what do you think?" Sylar gave an embarrased smile and apologized for drifting away from the conversation.
-- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- --
"You owe me Petrelli!"
Sylar practically pulled the door off its hinges when he opened it. He stomped towards the bedroom, stripping as he went. Peter saw a sneaker fly across the doorway and took a deep breath. He removed his own shoes calmly and untucked his shirt before walking into the bedroom.
"What do I owe you exactly?"
Sylar turned to his swiftly, a frown marring his face. He pointed at Peter, boxers still clenched in his fist.
"You owe me!"
Peter sighed and pulled off his shirt.
"So we've established. What do I owe you?"
Sylar stood up as straight as he could and let his boxers drop to the floor. He looked off to the side in thought and ran his hands up and down his chest.
What should he do for us Gabriel?
I thought lunch was nice...except for Mrs. Holner.
It was not nice! I had to pretend to be you to impress his dumb friends and that sex crazed hag.
Peter huffed from his place at the door.
"Mrs. Holner is not a hag."
Sylar stomped his foot once like a child and ran his hands through his hair.
"She was eyeing us like a peice of meat."
Peter shook his head and came forward to Sylar. He put his hands on Sylar's hips and rubbed his thumbs softly up and down on the boney jut of his hip bones.
"I had no idea old lady eyes were a strong enough force to stop the elusive Sylar. How interesting."
Sylar tutted but didn't move away from Peter. The soft, soothing strokes weren't usually to his liking, but Peter up close and naked was.
"Take off your pants and boxers. Leave the socks and suck me off."
Peter frowned but moved away to do as asked.
"Okay, okay. Any particular requests Sylar? Should I call you master or put on lipstick?"
Sylar sat on the edge of the bed and spread his legs.
"That would be great."
Peter's mouth dropped open. He hadn't been serious but there was no denying the look on Sylar's face. He fully expected Peter to obey. The nurse took a deep calming breath and headed towards the bathroom. He was sure he had a tube of lipstick somewhere in there. He searched in vain for several minutes before finally finally seeing it underneath an old magazine.
"Bright red, of course."
Peter applied the lipstick in the mirror and frowned at his reflection. With toussled hair and a clean shaven face his features weren't masculine enough to counteract the makeup.
So help me if he develops a crossdressing fetish...
Peter rumpled his hair a bit more, allowing his bangs to fall forward over his eyes, before going back to the bedroom. He leaned against the door. He rested his elbow on the door and crooked it so his forearm rested against the top of his head. He brought his other hand down to push gently on his belly button peircing before sweeping it down to tangle in his pubic hair.
"Am I pretty?"
Sylar smirked and spread his legs wider.
"Like a girl Petrelli."
Peter pulled away from the door and walked up to Sylar, swaying his hips senually. He went down to his knees and ran his hands slowly from kneecap to groin when he reached Sylar. He pressed his nose against Sylar's thigh and ran the tip of it up to press where the leg meets the groin.
"Ready master?"
"Yeah."
Peter smiled into Sylar's groin and pulled back just enough to give the first kitten lick. Peter made a big show of looking up at Sylar from under his lashes as he kept up the assault. The nurse repositioned his hands against Sylar's hips and kissed softly at the head of Sylar's penis. When he pulled back he could just make out the sticky shimmer of his lipstick.
Sylar reached forward and tucked a stray lock of hair behind Peter's ear.
"Suck Petrelli."
And he did. Peter had a fair amount of experience in what Sylar liked of oral sex. Light scrapes of teeth on the retreat and a waggling tongue on the descent. Biting the head was a big no-no despite the killers love of pain. But he enjoyed harsh treatment towards his perenium and balls.
Peter made sure to smear as much lipstick as he could. It was leaving bitter tasting trails all along Sylar's erection and even though he couldn't see properly from his point of view he was sure it made a pretty sight.
Sylar reached down to tangle his hand in Peter's hair and pulled him away. The nurses lips were swollen and shiney, still covered in bright red cosmetic. He pressed a thumb onto Peter's bottom lip and pressed. The nurse took it into his mouth and sucked teasingly at it, all the while looking haughtly up at Sylar. He bit gently and the killer pulled his thumb away. Then he pressed his thum firmly to Peter's bottom lip and smeared the lipstick, pushing a red sticky trail below Peter's lip and onto the bottom corner of his cheek.
"You look like a whore."
Peter raised an eyebrow but stayed silent. He felt slightly frightened. He always did when Sylar was in control, but it was a good feeling. He liked the rush of not knowing coupled with the knowledge that everything would eventually work out. He was up for a little pain and suffering if it meant Gabriel would lick his wounds later. Figurativly.
"Tell me you're my whore."
"I'm your whore Sylar."
Sylar made a 'hm' noise and pushed Peter's face back towards his groin.
"Finish what you started."
Peter took Sylar back in his mouth and set to work. He moved quickly, progressivly taking Sylar further and further with each bob of his head. When he finally reached the base he pushed his nose into Sylar's pubic hair and took a deep breath through his nose. Then he pushed his head from side to side while keeping his lips firmly at Sylar's base.
He pulled back slowly, letting his teeth drag lightly across Sylar's skin. He sucked harshly on the tip before sliding down again, once more deepthroating his lover. He hummed pressed the flat of his tongue to the large vein on the underside of Sylar's prick.
Sylar was breathing heavily, but no words escaped his lips. He liked to remain as silent as possible when he was in charge; truely a challange when faced with Peter's talented tongue. He kept his left hand on the top of Peter's head, his thumb working back and forth through the nurses hair.
When Sylar felt close he pulled Peter away and tried to catch his breath.
"I want it on your face."
"Are you gonna eat it after?"
"We'll see."
Peter licked his lips and noted that most of the lipstick was gone by now, leaving only a pastey aftertaste on his tongue. He bent forward to his task again, this time paying close attention to Sylar's circumcision scar. He licked with the point of his tongue and preppered kisses all around the head, humming all the while. When Peter put his lips just against the slit of Sylar's erection and sucked the killer came.
Peter pulled back and allowed the semen to splash across his face, only frowning when some got into his nose.
When Sylar came down from his high he took the time to appreciate the picture Peter made. His hair was a tangled mess, twisted in curls and swoops framing his face. There was semen painting stripes across his face. It was in his nose, clinging to his eyelashes, rolling down his cheeks, and collecting on his lips. And underneath that was the bright smear of red lipstick.
Sylar looked down farther and saw that Peter had quite enjoyed himself. He hadn't come but it was a close thing. From the way Peter was shifting Sylar could tell his knees were begining to hurt, so he grasped Peter by his upper arms and pulled him onto the mattress.
He took Peter in hand and smirked at the femenine sigh he got in return. Peter gripped weakly at Sylar's arms and shut his eyes. He let his mouth fall open and his head loll back. He didn't bother containing his soft breathy moans and was rewarded with soft kisses against his throat.
When Peter came he bit his lip, unintentionally sucking some of Sylar's come into his mouth. The taller man groaned at the sight but didn't feel up to another round. He pulled Peter up along the matress and grabbed the box of tissues from the nightstand.
Peter let the warm feeling of his orgasm just wash over him. It wasn't often he got to bask in his afterglow when Sylar was responsible for it. He took a second to appreciate how heavy and loose all of his limbs felt. He was so lost in the feel of his own body he jerked at the feel of something pressing against his face.
When he opened his eyes he was met with the blushing visage of Gabriel. He was poised over Peter holding a tissue in one hand and the box in another.
"Sorry. I just thought you might want to get cleaned up."
Peter smiled and reached out to stroke Gabriel's hip.
"That'd be nice."
He turned his face towards Gabriel and kept still while the watchmaker gently cleaned up the semen and lipstick. When Peter's face was entirely clean he pressed a kiss to Gabriel's retreating palm.
"Can I have a kiss Brei?"
Gabriel's nose crinkled at the thought of kissing Peter before he brushed his teeth but he thought about it. Peter watched as Gabriel cleaned his groin of lipstick, spit, and small amounts of his own semen.
"With tongue?"
Peter smiled and pressed his hand into Gabriel's side.
"Not if you don't want."
Gabriel's nose wrinkled again before he turned and gave Peter a quick chaste kiss. When he pulled away he tried to ignore the lingering taste of salt on his lips.
"Thank you Gabriel."
"You're welcome Peter."
Gabriel fidgeted for a few seconds on the edge of the mattress. It was only five at night and he didn't want to risk falling asleep so soon but Peter's sprawled body looked so inviting. As if sensing Gabriel's minor internal battle, Peter turned to lie on his side, one hand resting under his cheek.
"Let's rest now. If you fall asleep and wake up at a weird time just wake me up too. I'll make it up to you."
Gabriel looked back at Peter's face, still pink in the cheeks from his orgasm and the cleaning. Peter sucked in his lips and let them roll back out slowly and then pressed his nose into his hand.
Do it!
Sylar...
Look at that, how can you resist that?! Honestly, if I didn't know for a fact I came from you I'd wonder how the hell I'd gotten into some stranger's head.
"Don't fight you two. Just...", Peter's other hand reached out across the bed and smoothed over the sheets, "Just come lay with me."
"Okay Peter."
_________
Smut! w00t! And for the sake of that lets just say Emma or Claire visited and the lipstick fell out of their purse.
And Mrs. Holner is entirely my own creation.